


Mirror, Mirror

by Penkindisbestspecibus



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Comedy, Dark Magic, Dubious Morality, Gen, Mentor/Protégé, Multi, Other, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23065732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penkindisbestspecibus/pseuds/Penkindisbestspecibus
Summary: It occurs to him that making deals with strange elves you find in mirrors is not a particularly wise thing to do, but then, Callum has never been very wise. What he has always been, is kind, and when he thinks of what it must be like to be trapped in a mirror, secreted away in a dusty tower with nothing but other dusty forgotten things for company, he thinks it must be very lonely.All the Elf wants is someone to talk to. Is it so wrong of him to reach out?(And perhaps, it's true, that curiousity killed the cat - but if satisfaction can bring it back, then Callum is going to find out firsthand)
Relationships: Aaravos & Callum (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 43
Kudos: 197





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> standard disclaimer applies: no i don't know what i'm doing, this is a crazy train and we're all in it together
> 
> I came up with this idea a few months ago, and it was mostly born out of a love for Aaravos (that voice tho), as well as the concept of the arcanum in general - at the time, there was very little information on the arcanum, but I've since learned that 'Callum's Spellbook' has come out, and from what I've seen, my guesstimates on the arcanum's natures have been relatively spot on.
> 
> Of course, the only person I can brag about that to is my boyfriend but hey.

"Behold!" Viren declared with a flourish. "I took the liberty of claiming it when I was at the Storm Spire."

"... It's a mirror," Harrow replied dryly. "Is this really what you've been devoting so much time to? I didn't take you for a vain man."

Viren scowled, but it was a good natured expression, lacking any real venom. "Harrow, please." He straightened his posture a touch, hands held behind his back as he turned to the mirror once again. "I know you're sharp enough to realise its importance. They kept it where they slept." He scowled again, eyes narrowed. "There  _ must _ be a reason."

"And I'm sure there is." He paused. "Have you considered that the reason might just be… that it's a mirror?"

"A man sized mirror in the lair of two of the most titanic monsters in existence?" Viren gestured at it with his staff. "Be serious."

Harrow rolled his eyes, shoulders slumping slightly. "I  _ am  _ being serious, Viren. Have your divinations revealed anything?"

"Well… not  _ exactly _ …"

"No. They haven't. If they had, we would not be standing here, debating what its importance is." Harrow pinned his oldest friend and closest advisor with a stare. "Viren. You are one of the smartest people I know. What is more likely? That there is some mysterious arcana your magic cannot reveal? Or that there is no magic to be revealed at all?"

Viren went silent, eyes darting to and fro along the mirror's silvered surface, across the elven runes and finally on the stern expression of his King, reflected in the polished glass.

"Katolis needs its High Mage, Viren.  _ I _ need you. By my side, not… obsessing over a potentially magic mirror."

After a moment, Viren let out a disgruntled sigh. "You're… you're right," he muttered, with no small amount of disappointment. "There's no point obsessing over it. Not when there's work to be done."

He reached for the cloth and tossed it over the mirror once again, covering it from wandering gazes.

It was left to be forgotten in a tower, surrounded by other unwanted or unneeded things… but not for long.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It begins with a mirror, a Prince, and a tower full of lonely, forgotten things.
> 
> (It begins with an Elf, scorned and derided, but full of patience)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Callum meets Aaravos, and the ball gets rolling.
> 
> It's also late at night and I should be sleeping ha-HA
> 
> this is about the extent of what I had pre-written and I know myself well enough that promising any kind of schedule is a futile attempt that will only disappoint you and make myself feel guilty for failing to meet it, but please enjoy my dumb self indulgent bullshit anyway

"Eeeeezraaaan? Where are you, buddy?" called the young Prince Callum, shuffling down corridors and ducking through random doors in search of his errant brother. "Come on. Playtime's over! No more hiding!" He waited for a response, any giggles or Bait's tell tale glow… but the only thing he could hear was the faint whistling of the wind as it blew through an open window and gently ruffled the curtains. He huffed, not to be dissuaded, and marched towards a pair of slightly ajar doors. "Come on Ez, you can't hide forever."

The doors swung open easily, albeit with an audible creak, but there was no sign of his brother here either. As a matter of fact, it looked as though nobody had really come in this particular room for a fairly long time indeed. A number of chairs were scattered around in irreverent positions alongside a few crates, boxes and barrels. There was something in the far corner just by an armchair, covered by a large canvas tarp, and it was by far the most interesting thing in the room, if only because everything else was so painfully mundane.

The room was, however, the perfect place for a young, playful prince to hide, and so Callum double checked the corners and behind a box or two just in case. At last, he came to the covered object, and he reached out carefully… and stopped midway. Should he really be doing this, he wondered? If it was covered, was it for a reason? But then again… if it was _really_ important, what was it doing here, abandoned? He was just going to check if Ezran had managed to sneak his way there, somehow. Without leaving any tracks in the dust. Or without having Bait give them away.

… Okay, so he'd gotten curious, but it was harmless. Right? Right.

He pulled the canvas away with one hand, and held his torch aloft to gaze upon… a mirror? "... Huh," he mumbled. It was a _nice_ mirror, sure, and the runic script along the rim was entrancing to his young, curious mind but really, if there was anything actually special about it, it clearly wouldn't have been left here. But it was so nice, and fancy, and lovely, for it to waste away here seemed… wasteful, for a lack of better word. "I wonder what it's doing here?"

He paced around it, his brother (briefly) forgotten. Everything about it seemed exquisite, but then, he wasn't really an expert. "It was probably a gift or something for Dad," he mumbled, "It doesn't really look like something he'd get himself. Probably doesn't like it much, so he put it here." He stopped in front of it, admiring the frame once again (and definitely not posing a little in the tall glass). After a few minutes, he began to wonder what had brought him here originally, because it wasn't to look for long forgotten mirrors...

"... Oh! Right, Ez, gotta find him!"

* * *

It was a few days before Callum found himself in the room of abandoned furniture once again. He hadn't meant to meander his way to it, but he hadn't really meant to meander his way anywhere - sort of the whole point of meandering, really. But the room was quiet, there were chairs that were surprisingly comfy, and in the summer heat, the drafty (if dusty) air was a welcome reprieve, and so he decided he'd walked long enough and he'd just take a small rest here. Maybe poke in some crates to see what was in them, or admire the mirror some more.

He did more of the latter than the former, but that was mostly because it was pretty clear that the crates were as boring as everything else as the only thing in them seemed to be old moth eaten canvas and camping equipment. The _mirror_ on the other hand was simply enchanting, and Callum brought out his charcoal and his book and began to sketch it after only a few minutes.

When he was done, he sketched a few more things (Claudia, a bird that happened to land on the window, his own reflection in the mirror…) and moved on to other things for the day, but the memory of the quiet tranquility, the comfortable chair and the strange-but-enticing mirror lured him back the next day, and the day after, and the day after that.

He didn't spend them all sketching. This particular wing of the Castle seemed to be less frequented, so it became his sanctuary, his oasis away from the world at large, where there was nothing but gentle quiet and himself. And he _did_ have a very tall mirror all to himself, so he began to practice speeches, poses, even sword fighting against imaginary enemies. Whatever he was too self conscious to do in his room, where Ezran might see or hear, he began to do there, up to and including writing into a journal - one he dictated as he wrote.

He knew the room like the back of his hand by this point, and could navigate it entirely blind, so perhaps it was that confidence that led him to come by one night, a small candle in his hands. The open window would give him a fantastic view of the night sky, he reasoned, and there was supposed to be a full moon tonight. Why not sketch the night sky then? That had been the plan, at least.

He'd gotten in, settled into his chair, set the candle down on the mirror's table, opened his sketchbook and brought out the charcoal. He'd been so entirely focused on getting ready to sketch that he hadn't even bothered to look into the mirror, so by the time he _did_ , what greeted him was all the more shocking.

"AAAAAAH!" he shouted (he definitely did _not_ scream), flailing backwards with all of his diminutive might. Although he was no titan, it was still enough to tilt his armchair backwards until it fell over under its own unbalanced weight with a dull ' _THUD_ '. Carefully, oh so carefully, Callum reached up to haul himself upright and peer over the lip of the chair and at the mirror.

The figure in the mirror, foreign and unfamiliar in every sense (and not just because they were decidedly _not_ Callum's reflection despite being in a _mirror_ ), merely smiled back and waved gently with one hand.

"... Okay. There's a person in the mirror. Why is there a person in the mirror?" And if there was a person in the mirror, why had they only been visible now? "Oh Gods," Callum murmured, horrified. Had they been watching this entire time? Worse, _listening_?!

The figure tilted their head to the side and waved again, this time in a more… beckoning way.

Should… should he get closer? It's a strange mystical mirror with a strange mystical person in it. He can't fathom what it's doing _here_ (or why or how or anything about it really), but that only fuels his curiousity, stoking the flame into a roaring blaze until he could bear it no longer and inched forward with utmost caution.

The figure within the mirror smiled at him patiently, hands held gently in front of them as they watched. They had a beautiful, elegant face, and equally beautiful and elegant robes, and everything about them seemed _otherworldly_ , from the indigo tint of their skin, to the dark shimmering gaze of their eyes.

Callum stopped when he was just close enough to reach out and touch the mirror, and against his better judgement, that's exactly what he did. The silvered glass was cold to the touch, and felt exactly like an ordinary, mundane mirror would.

The figure watched his hand with something akin to bemusement, and reached out to place their own hand against Callum's, mirroring the gesture. From the smirk on their face, they were aware of the inherent word play.

He was a little disappointed to note that he didn't feel anything (no reciprocal pressure or warmth, no tingling, nothing) but any feelings of disappointment were washed away by the shock as he exclaimed "Four fingers… you're an elf!"

The Elf in the Mirror (or Eitm, as Callum was just now dubbing them) smiled back pleasantly, reaching up to remove their cowl. Two dark obsidian horns curved out of their head as tresses of silver-lilac hair spilled out around them in a flowing mane (and some part of Callum is forced to acknowledge the fact that they are _very_ pretty). One hand rose up slowly, patiently, up to a pointed ear and… flicked it a few times.

"What does-oh. You… you can't hear me, can you?"

Eitm just kept smiling, patient and calm.

"... Right. Can't hear that either," Callum muttered, this time mostly to himself. Still very cognizant of the fact that he probably should _not_ be doing anything other than running and telling his dad about this, he began to slowly raise his hands. _Do you understand sign language?_

Eitm paused for a moment, and tilted their head to the side. For a moment, Callum thought it was a waste, but then they nodded, raising their own hands. _I understand._

"You do? Uh. I mean…" Callum shook his head and started signing again. _You do?_

Eitm nodded once again.

_My name is C-A-L-L-U-M. Yours?_

The signs Eitm made, Callum didn't quite recognise now. He got a ' _My name-_ ' but when they began to spell it… it was probably too much to hope that their name would just translate like that.

Still, Callum engraved the movements and gestures into his mind, and maybe he'd find out more later… but for now, Eitm's name in his mind will still be Eitm, because he's not really sure he can get his mind to accept a series of gestures as a name. Now, he's not so sure what to do or where to go from here though.

So with slow, almost fumbling hands he started to sign a question. _What are you doing in a mirror?_

Eitm paused this time, contemplative and silent. Well, the 'silent' part was a given. Eventually, they raised their hands and signed a single word. _Complicated._

Callum didn't stop himself from narrowing his eyes. Complicated, huh? A strange elf trapped in a mirror… he really _should_ tell his father. He's not sure why he doesn't.

Eitm seemed to sense his suspicion, because they started signing again. _Who are you, little one?_

"Oh, uh…" They probably aren't asking for his name again, so he signed _I am the Prince of Katolis_ instead. And then he threw in a _Who are you?_ because turnabout is fair play after all.

Another pause, although shorter than before. _I am-_ and then a sign Callum didn't recognise. His confusion must still readily apparent on his face, because Eitm follows it up with _Perhaps it would be easier if we spoke properly._

Callum blinked. _We can do that?_

A patient smile and a twinkle in their eyes. _Of course. The ritual is simple, but you will need…_

* * *

Callum had no idea what he's doing. Well, no, that's a lie. He knew exactly what he was doing - what he doesn't know is _why_ he was doing it. He was gathering all the ingredients for the ritual as described by Eitm and some small part of his mind was telling him it was insane to even consider it. A ritual? From some strange elf trapped in a mirror? It could be a trick, or a trap, or a million other things!

But he was _curious_. And the ingredients aren't exactly… he doesn't know a lot about Dark Magic, but he knows the more powerful the ingredients, the more powerful the spell. Some cloth, a needle and thread, an amethyst geode and a small knife are… what's the worst that could happen?

"Heeeeyyyy, Callum. Whatcha doin'?"

Being found by Claudia, maybe. He pointedly did _not_ scream in terror and surprise, but let out a dignified and entirely appropriate yelp. "Gods, Claudia, don't do that!" he exclaimed, hand over his too-quickly beating his heart.

Claudia, for her part, seemed only confused at his indignation, but she shrugged it off after a moment. "So, what are ya doin'?" she repeated, leaning forward to inspect the bundle in his arms. "Is that a geode?"

He looked down at the bundle himself. "... it's an art project!" he claimed, mentally patting himself on the back for the save, "I'm working on an art project."

"Uhhhhh-huhhhhh…" Claudia didn't seem particularly convinced despite his 'impeccable' acting. "What kind of art project needs some cloth and a geode?"

"Well, I, uh… am… going to paint the cloth with the crystals." He wasn't sure that was a thing you could do, but he's half sure he read it somewhere in a book - and if he's wrong, what are the odds Claudia's going to be able to call him out on it?

She gave him a suspicious look that he tried to deflect with a 'confident' grin, but ultimately she shrugged it off.

Callum nearly let out a sigh of relief, but she's still there so he didn't drop his guard. He also didn't question why he felt the need to keep the secret from her as well, even if she's _Claudia_ , an accomplished mage in her own right despite only being a year or so older than him, and if there was anyone he could trust about a clearly magical mirror with an Elf inside of it, it'd be her.

"You okay, buddy? You look a little jumpy." Aaaand she was leaning right up close to his face again.

"I'm good!" he squeaked out, leaning away in a desperate attempt to recover his dignity and personal space. "Just uh… this is a surprise," he added, wincing internally as he dug the hole deeper, "For Ezran. So um. Don't mention it to anyone?" Why? Why is he saying that? It's not like it has to be something secret, it's not like there's something super sinister and terrible about some cloth and a geode. Or art projects.

But Claudia has a dawning look of understanding and Callum is so entirely relieved he can't stop a little of it from showing on his face. "Don't worry, Callum," she said cheerfully, slapping him on the shoulder with more force than her frame suggested, "Your secret's safe with me. Good luck with your little art project thingy!"

"... Thanks Claudia," he mumbled, giving her a weak smile that she returned (with an added thumbs up), watching her stride away, humming some tuneless melody to herself. He took a moment to look down at the items in his arms, and wondered, once again, what the hell he was doing.

* * *

Eitm was waiting patiently by the time he returned, and a part of Callum wondered if the Elf ever slept. Did elves sleep? That was a question for later, he supposed. Now? Now he had a ritual to perform.

And wasn't that a thought. A ritual. Magic. Magic! He was performing magic! Very basic magic by the looks of things, and following Eitm's movements was simple enough. Stitching the rune was arguably the hardest part, but Callum was always good with his hands, fine control and nimble fingers. He wasn't too sure what purpose the cloth served given that after they cracked the geode, it was put aside and ignored. Grinding up the amethysts and then… drinking them was... that was the point he started to second guess himself but Eitm had done it so it _probably_ wasn't poison.

Unless elves can drink gemstone juice(?) and human's couldn't but… oh screw it, down the hatch.

"... That's… not bad, actually," he mumbled, looking down at his empty cup.

Eitm smiled pleasantly, as though echoing his sentiment… and then they held a hand out with the knife, blade against their palm. The meaning was obvious.

They had to use their own blood, and that… _that_ was a shade more worrying than drinking gem juice.

Callum wasn't a mage, and he'd freely admit knowing next to nothing about magic. But he knew the basic principle of Dark Magic - the more powerful the 'source', the more powerful the spell. He had no idea how powerful blood was, but he was guessing it was stronger than some of the bug's he'd seen Claudia crush up. Not for the first time, he was questioning what he was doing and why. It was probably not a good sign, you know, constantly stopping and wondering whether it was a good idea.

He set the knife down slowly, eyes on the Elf, and began signing. _Why should I trust you?_ _This could be a trap._

Eitm paused, set their knife down as well and replied about as matter of factly as one could in sign language. _It could._

He waited for anything more, but there was (metaphorical) silence. Was… were they not even going to try to convince him to do it? They were just smiling at him patiently. _Why should I do this?_

_I will help you with anything you need. I live to serve._ The response is calm and matter of fact, but there's also no hesitation. Prepared. 

Callum chewed his bottom lip, fingers slow and unsure. _Like what?_

_Advice. Knowledge. Magic._ A slight widening of the Elf's smile as Callum's breath visibly hitched. _I have lived for a long time, longer than most. I know many things._

His fingers moved unsteadily as he signed his reply. _And what would it cost?_ because Callum isn't so foolish and trusting as to believe there isn't a cost.

_Talk to me,_ the Elf replied, _tell me of the world outside. That would suffice._

Callum glanced between the elf and his knife. It must be lonely, being trapped in a mirror… how long had they been there, before Callum found them? From the dust, it must've been a while. He took a deep breath, and grasped the knife.

Eitm smiled back and they cut their palms as one. Callum winced as he bled into the goblet, watching transfixed (and a little disgusted) as a caterpillar-worm- _thing_ just… crawled up out of the elf's throat, and into the goblet.

And then it's there. In his cup, crawling out and along his arm and he has no idea how to react. What if it was a trap all along? What if it… took over his body or killed him or did _something_?

"Speak," the _worm_ murmured in a voice, deep and hoarse that sent shivers down Callum's spine.

"Oh," Callum breathed out, because of all the possible voices the sparkly elf in the mirror could have that really was _not_ the one he was expecting, "I uh… I… I um, might… need a moment…"

Eitm closed his eyes and chuckled and the bassy noise almost made Callum collapse on the spot. "Aaaahhh… how many years has it been since I heard another voice…"

Well, with a voice like that, Callum thought he might be fine just talking to himself.

"What is it that you wish to know, Prince of Katolis? Tell me how I may serve you."

"Callum," he said almost immediately, taking a seat because he no longer really trusted his legs to keep him up, "My name's uh… Callum." He paused. "And yours…?"

The Elf smiled in reply, eyes twinkling gently like the bright little lights that freckled his skin. "Aaravos," he murmured, "the Archmage. At your service."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fellas, is it gay if the very pretty elf in the magic mirror makes you weak at the knees with his voice?
> 
> (I don't have any ships, canon or otherwise, planned for this, it just amuses me if Callum started questioning his sexuality because of Aaravos' everything, I mean, would you blame him?)


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ask, and you shall receive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to my boyfriend for helping me make decisions with his big brain
> 
> A lot of my headcanons for Magic and Arcanum come into play here - Callum's Book of Spells seems to at least semi-confirm some of my ideas, which was neat.

"You must be very careful," Aaravos murmured right against the shell of Callum's ear, and it's only through long exposure to the sound that he's finally stopped shivering every time, "this is a vital stage of the process."

"Right. So just… very slowly… add it…" He's adapted surprisingly well to talking to a strange mystical (very pretty) elf trapped in a mirror. For all the apparent… sinister overtones of the whole situation, Aaravos was actually very helpful and forthright. Any question Callum asked of him, he answered, and any advice he sought was given freely.

Case in point, this recipe for orange flower cookies.

"Good… now, whisk it together carefully. Once it has come together sufficiently, do not work it further." There was something funny about asking a centuries-old elf for their recipe for cookies, but it's not like that's exactly what Callum did. After talking to Aaravos, some gentle prodding ("What is it that you desire, Prince Callum of Katolis? Tell me, and I will help you."), he'd confessed that he wanted to maybe get closer to Claudia, and… that had led here, at the elf's own suggestion.

A very mundane recipe for cookies, no magic or mystical rituals involved.

"Once they have combined, spread them out on a sheet in spoonfuls. Spare a space three fingers wide between each. Once they are ready, place them in the oven for twelve to fifteen minutes but be sure to rotate halfway through for an even bake."

Callum nodded along, following the instructions carefully as he worked. He couldn't see Aaravos, not without the mirror there, but his voice carried to him wherever he went through the caterpillar, and Aaravos himself seemed to be able to see through it as well. It, for all intents and purposes, seemed to be Aaravos.

"You will know they are ready when they have achieved a light golden colour, and begin to brown around the edges."

"And this will… you think Claudia will like them?" Callum didn't voice the real question - 'Do you think Claudia will like _me_?'.

From Aaravos' bassy chuckle, he knew what Callum had meant regardless. "Of course," he replied demurely, "This is my own personal recipe. Admittedly, I would use starbloom, but orange flower works just as well."

"... How do you know so much about - about human stuff?" It's weird to think of it as specifically human, but he can't imagine that Xadia knew much about life here. Except Aaravos certainly seemed knowledgeable, even if it was just about… cooking.

"I am very old," Aaravos admitted easily, "Older than Katolis, little Prince. I have traveled far, and seen much."

"You mentioned that earlier," he replied. He'd said it off-handedly, hinted at his age, but Callum hadn't quite paid much attention at the time. Now he had about ten to fifteen minutes of waiting to pass. "How old _are_ you?"

"A good question. I am afraid I no longer have quite the accurate answer. I cannot say with certainty how my calendar would align with yours, Prince, but… I bore witness to several ages before I was… _imprisoned_." He can almost see Aaravos' lip curling in frustration and rage, the one subject that seemed to actually take away his patient smile.

So he changed the subject. "... Does it get boring, living for so long?'

Another chuckle. "I found ways to pass the time. There is so much to learn in the world, and even one as long lived as I cannot hope to learn it all. Knowledge is always expanding, and every day something impossible is achieved." There was a noise like a wistful sigh. "I have spent so long trapped away, while the world outside has advanced without me..."

Right. That was probably why he'd asked Callum to tell him about things. He wasn't sure what to say or do in the silence that followed, quietly contemplating. Aaravos was centuries old, and terribly alone. Such an incredible amount of knowledge… that he was using to help bake cookies. It… felt like a waste. Even if they turned out to be really good cookies.

"Prince," Aaravos began quietly, "It is about time you rotated the sheet."

"Oh! Right, um. Yeah." He followed the instructions and slid the oven door shut.

"Tell me, Prince… what is it that bothers you?"

"What? Nothing's bothering me!"

Aaravos made a clucking noise right in his ear. "And yet, you have said nothing for the past five minutes."

Callum huffed. "I don't talk that much," he muttered.

"You do not," Aaravos conceded, "But there is a difference between the silence of one who has nothing to say and one who does not know what to say. What is it that bothers you, Prince Callum?"

A lot of things, if he was honest, but he doesn't really want to spill all of them to Aaravos here and now, so he settled for the easiest. "Will this really help make Claudia like me?"

A gentle humming was Aaravos' answer. "There are many ways to build a relationship, but there is no singular way to make one spring up overnight. 'Love' is like a flower, Prince - you must tend to it carefully over many moons before it blooms."

That sounded like the kind of wise, sage advice Callum expected out of a poetry book. "What if she doesn't like them?" he mumbled, peering at the cookies that are just now beginning to brown around the edges.

"Then you will have to attempt something else," Aaravos said simply. "Take an interest in what interests her, Prince. Listen to what she has to say, and share that enjoyment and knowledge with her." He paused. "I believe the cookies are ready, Prince. Oven gloves on - it would not do to burn yourself."

"Right, right."

* * *

"Oh wow, these are great!" Soren declared, crumbs framing his mouth as he spoke through a mouthful of half-chewed cookies. "You know, if the whole Step-Prince thing doesn't work out, you can always become a baker."

Callum stared at him with no small amount of disappointment before letting out a soft, dejected sigh. "... Thanks, Soren. That… that uh, means a lot," he muttered, staring at the now half-empty plate of cookies. "Are you sure Claudia can't…"

Soren's gaze sharpened briefly but the moment ended as he slapped Callum on the back with his free hand. "Sorry buddy, she's busy. She's working on some crazy magic spell thingy…" He paused for a moment, face scrunched up in thought. "Something about… uh… Primary Magic… and… well, the point is that it's super important and she's super busy." He reached over to ruffle Callum's hair in a way that was _entirely_ too patronizing before grinning down at him. "I'll tell her you came by though."

"... Thanks," he echoed, hesitating briefly before he made his mind up and held the plate out. "Can you give her these? I uh, thought she… might like some."

Soren's eyes lit up in a way that suggested there was only a small chance that any of the cookies would ever make it to Claudia in one piece. "Sure thing little buddy!" He reached out to take them from Callum but his hands froze midway and his gaze fixed on something just left of Callum's head.

Callum moved to turn to see what he was looking at when Soren let out a small hiss.

"Don't move, Callum…" he began cautiously, as though there were a dangerous beast right behind him waiting to strike, "You've got the weirdest bug I've ever seen on your ear… Don't worry, I'll get it…"

"Wh-no!" Callum exclaimed, waving his hands back and forth… and spilling the cookies everywhere. "... Damn it," he muttered quietly, watching his hard work scatter across the ground. "He's my… uh little… bug… pal."

Aaravos snickered right against his ear which _really_ did not help things at all. "Why Prince," he crooned, "I did not realise you thought so highly of me."

Soren seemed completely oblivious to Aaravos' words (maybe he couldn't hear him?), although he was certainly quite confused by Callum's. "... Uh huh," he said slowly, bending over to pick up one of the fallen cookies. Five second rule meant it was still fine, after all, especially if he blew on it a little before he took a bite. 

"Yeah. Like… like Ezran has Bait, so I uh. Figured I'd get a pet of my own?"

He still didn't seem entirely convinced, but he did look less like he was going to press it further. "Cool, cool," he said, nodding gently. "What's its-uh, _his_ name?"

Callum blinked. "Aaravos?" he threw out without even thinking. He realised it was a stupid thing to say almost immediately, especially given Soren's even more confused expression. Right. Aaravos was an Elven name and thus, very strange sounding. "I uh, saw it in a book and I thought it sounded cool."

"Not a bad save, Prince," Aaravos murmured.

"Uh… huh," Soren replied, arms folded over his chest. For a long moment, Callum thought he might call him out on the lie… but then he shrugged. "Cool worm, Callum. Thanks for the cookies too."

Callum didn't respond, but he trudged away crestfallen all the same as Soren rather obliviously bit into the last cookie.

"Do not lose hope, Prince," Aaravos crooned, "If you give up so easily, then your feelings could not have been 'Love' at all."

"I'm not," he muttered, a little defensively, slumping onto a bench when he thought he was safely alone, "It's just… she's so busy all the time. I never really get a chance to talk to her when I want to. And with all the stuff I have to handle as well it's just…" He let his chin sink into his hands. "I don't know."

Aaravos (or rather, the Worm Aaravos used to represent himself) crawled around onto Callum's hands, leaving the Prince to pull his hands away from his face and peer down at the purple caterpillar. "If you are worried that you are not significant enough to warrant attention in her eyes, Prince, then the solution is simple. You must become more important in her eyes."

He always made everything sound so simple, shortly before he made it seem more complicated. "... How do I do that?"

The Worm made a movement that Callum thought might have been a shrug, or as close to one as the Worm could get given it didn't have any shoulders. "What is important to her?"

"Uh. Family? Her duties… Magic…" He… he didn't really know what Claudia liked outside of those things really. Every time they had spoken, it had always been about one of those three things, or something relatively mundane like the weather or something that had just happened. It wasn't like Callum hadn't asked, either - Claudia just… was just really into magic, not that he could blame her. It was _magic_.

"As I understand it, her duties are to do with magic, are they not?"

"... guess that makes two things. Family and Magic."

"Then unless you are likely to be adopted into her family any time soon - a situation unlikely to lead to romance if it were to happen - it seems that magic will be the path to go."

"But I'm not allowed to study magic," Callum said, slumping forward so his nose was almost touching the worm, "Dad says it's… dangerous. Not the kind of thing a Prince should be involved in."

The Worm clicked it's pincers together. "Dangerous? Properly taught and practiced, magic is no more dangerous than fencing or riding, and as I understand it, _those_ are things your father bids you learn." The Worm crawled up along his arm again. "I mean no insult by this, Prince, but I have borne witness to your 'fencing' - allow me to assure you that learning magic would be _much_ safer… for everyone involved."

Callum opened his mouth to retort but... well, he supposed Aaravos had a point. "I don't think my dad's going to care. What am I supposed to tell him? 'An ancient elf I found in a magic mirror is tutoring me in magic so it's all good'?"

"When you phrase it that way, it _does_ sound ridiculous," Aaravos murmured, no small amount of amusement in his voice, "But there is a simple solution to that issue, Prince."

"What?"

Although Callum couldn't see it, Aaravos was smiling and he could hear it in the tone of his voice. "Don't get caught."

Callum folded his arms over his chest. "This sounds like one of those things that's easier in theory."

"Worry not, for the beginning stages of magical education will be very easy to hide. It will be some time before you can manage to cast even the simplest of spells I imagine."

Well that was… less exciting. He couldn't help his shoulders from drooping a little. But even if he couldn't cast any spells, learning would be… "You think this will help make Claudia fall in love with me?"

The Worm clicked it's pincers as Aaravos made a humming sound. "It will help create a common ground for you to share."

… What the hell. He was already taking lessons from a magical worm he got from a hauntingly beautiful elf trapped in an enchanted mirror, might as well make them magical lessons as well.

* * *

"All Magic is drawn through the six primal Arcanum," Aaravos began, his deep rumbling voice managing to sound surprisingly authoritative even though it was coming from a worm no bigger than two of Callum's fingers put together, "and the very first step to learning Primal Magic is to forge a connection to one of them."

Callum nodded dutifully, scrawling notes in his book as Aaravos lectured him. "And… how do I do that?"

Aaravos merely hummed. "That, my dear apprentice, is not something that can be explained or taught. Oh, there's no need to look at me like _that_. How would you describe colour to the blind, music to the deaf?"

"We do that all the time for my aunt. We just describe how it makes you feel, like… this is a very energetic, happy song?"

He nodded. "And you could describe colors as feeling warm or cold, as gentle or harsh, yes. But consider this question: I am thinking of a colour. It is cool, but gentle. Fresh and calm. What colour is it?"

Callum knitted his brow into a frown. "I don't know… blue? Green?"

"There are many colours that fall under that label, Prince."

"Well, you haven't really given me much to…" He trailed off, eyes widening slightly. "Okay, I get it." He folded his arms over his chest. "It's the same with Magic, isn't it?"

"Very good," Aaravos murmured with a lion's purr and okay, it is _not_ fair that a Worm can sound like that, "I could tell you that to be connected to the Arcanum of the Sun is to know the purity of truth; I could tell you that to be connected to the Arcanum of the Sky is to be a wing on the wind; but neither of them would truly capture the essence of that connection."

"So… what do I have to do? If you can't teach me or explain it to me, how am I supposed to learn? Meditate under a waterfall?"

The Worm clicked its with an amused chuckle. "Goodness no. Nothing so esoteric, although I imagine some meditation will help. To reuse an earlier metaphor, Prince, your answer of 'Blue-Green' was not incorrect - it merely failed to capture the _exact_ colour I was thinking of." He paused. "For reference, it was aquamarine, but that's besides the point. My description was inadequate, yes, but it still served as a beginning point for you to contemplate what I meant. Such is the same for Arcanum."

Callum stared at him, frowning intensely with confusion. "Yeah, but I could sit here 'meditating' about colours until forever - how am I supposed to know when I get it right? Ask?"

"You will know."

"... Right," Callum mumbled, "That's helpful."

Aaravos chuckled again. "Trust me, little Prince, when you have forged the connection to an Arcanum, you _will_ know." The Worm spun around in a little circle, standing up on its hindquarters like a little man about to give a lecture. And in a way, that's exactly what it was. "Now, the six primal Arcanum are, in no particular order: The Sun; The Moon; The Stars; The Earth; The Sky; The Waves."

Callum began scrawling it down immediately with his quill.

"To know the Arcanum of the Sun is to know the purity of truth; it is the Light that banishes the shadows of deception and destroys falsehoods but it may also nurture life, for life can only flourish in truth and honesty. To know the Sun is to know that there is one singular Truth, and to wield it is to seek that Truth.

"To know the Arcanum of the Moon is to know there _isn't_ any truth; not one that-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Callum interjected, waving a hand, "You _just_ said that there is a singular truth that is truth-ier than anything and now you're saying there isn't…?"

Rather than annoyance at being interrupted, when Aaravos spoke, he sounded more amused than anything else. "If you would let me finish, apprentice, I will do my best to clarify the apparent conflict."

Callum had the good grace to blush at that, and lowered his head to focus on his notes.

"That said, being able to hold the truth of both Arcanum's and balance them within is a necessary part of learning to wield multiple forms of magic… but that is a lesson for _much_ later. To know the Arcanum of the Moon is to know there is no truth; not one that can be _truly_ understood. The reality we perceive _is_ reality, true or false, and accepting that gives us power over it.

"To know the Arcanum of the Stars is to see the bigger picture; a thousand smaller lights creating a vast canvas in the sky. No single light is significant or important in its own way, but the shape they create is what truly matters.

"To know the Arcanum of the Earth is to know that every stone is important; every tree, every leaf, every blade of grass are all part of the great forest and each of them is a world unto themselves. There is no forest without the trees, and there are no mountains without the stones."

Callum was beginning to see a pattern of sorts, but he didn't interrupt a second time.

"To know the Arcanum of the Sky is to be free; it is to fly not only _on_ the winds but through them. It is to chart one's own course, direct one's own fate. It is to choose for oneself and be unshackled from all others.

"To know the Arcanum of the Waves is to know that all things are connected; it is to feel the ripples of each action in the world, to know that your actions influence the actions of others and they in turn influence yet more. It is to know that all waves flow into and from each other, and to allow yourself to be carried by those currents where they might take you."

He finished the last of his notes, and stared down at the two-page spread he'd created. When it became clear that the lecture had finished (for the most part), he took it as his cue to ask questions. "So they're all… in opposition to each other?"

Aaravos tilted his head to the side. "Opposition is not quite correct; is one face of a coin in opposition to the other, or is it merely another face of the same coin?"

"I mean, they kinda are?"

Rather impressively, the Worm managed to give Callum a blank look and simply pressed on. "To begin your education, you must choose an Arcanum to master - once you have mastered one, you may look towards mastering a second, but I imagine such an undertaking would be many years ahead of you."

Callum nodded slowly. "And the first step is connecting to it, right?"

"Correct."

He looked down at his notes. "... How do I pick? Is there-like, what if I'm better at one than another? Is there a test?"

"If you were an elf," he said calmly, "you would have that choice made for you - we are, from our first breath, connected to an Arcanum. You are human - so you must make the decision for yourself."

Okay. He just has to choose. No biggie. He can… he can do that. Just… gotta pick which part of magic he's going to study for at least the next few years. "If… which Arcanum would…" He takes a deep breath. "Which would I use, if I wanted to, say, warm the land in winter so crops could grow?"

Aaravos paused. "That would depend entirely on why, and what you wanted, Prince."

He began to slowly fidget with his quill. "Well… a… years ago, there was this famine. In Duren. And my Dad, the King, wanted to help, but the only way we could help was… was if we used something from Xadia. My… mom died, protecting them. If it ever happened again, I thought… well, if I could learn how to cast the spell without needing to get that… titan heart, then nobody would have to risk their lives."

The Archmage was silent for a long moment. "I am sorry," he said, at last, "what you ask for is impossible alone. There is indeed a spell that may warm the land, and allow one to farm in winter, but in order to warm enough land to sustain a Kingdom… it is not a ritual that could be sustained by a single mage."

"... Oh."

"But…" Aaravos continued, watching as the Prince's downcast expression perked up almost immediately, "... if your goal is to ensure that nobody ever risk their lives needlessly, then there _is_ an answer. Forewarned is forearmed - if one is aware of the danger ahead, then you may prepare to avoid it more carefully." There was an amused tilt to Aaravos' words now, fuelled by Callum's own eager expression.

"I will teach you to harness the Arcanum of the Stars, little Prince."


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prince's education begins in earnest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Don't you hate it when you proof read something, hit submit, and then find several things you missed? I hate it.

"The Arcanum of the Stars is the canvas of fate. It is a thousand twinkling lights that create the constellations. Study the stars, Prince, contemplate their meaning and their shapes - consider what makes a constellation, and what does not. Consider where things end and where they begin." Aaravos waited for Callum to finish writing all of that down before he continued further. "If you do not have access to a telescope of some kind, I would suggest acquiring one. It should not be hard - you _are_ a Prince, after all. You'll also need an astrolabe, as well as an orrery. The planets are not stars - not _truly_ \- but their movements still affect the great loom."

Callum scratched it all into his book with eager motions.

"Now watch closely." He drew a finger through the air, leaving a pale, glowing trail behind. "This is the basic rune for all star magic. Draw it out for me."

The Prince leaned forward, thrumming with excitement, and he grabbed his book with frantic energy. He flipped to an empty spot, and with his quill, reproduced the rune with perfect accuracy. "Like this?" he said, showing it to Aaravos.

For the first time that he'd ever seen, Aaravos looked surprised. "... Marvellous," the Worm murmured, as the Elf in the Mirror leaned forward, "It's… perfect." He trailed his finger in the air again, slowly, as though he were tracing the drawing and the glowing trail it left behind was the same as before. "I was aware of your talent for drawing, Prince but… to be able to recreate the rune with one look…"

Callum rubbed the back of his head, flushed pink with embarrassment. The praise lit a fire in him, but he didn't really know how to react to it besides. "Well, I, you know… I've been practicing, I guess…"

Aaravos gave him a stern look that made him shrink back. "Do not sell yourself short, Prince. Know your own worth, or others will take advantage." He held the stare for a second longer, and then relaxed. "In any case, this will make things more expedient. I had expected this to take more practice before you would have the runes mastered to a sufficient degree, so I suppose we have more time for other things."

… Okay, that was definitely not a reassuring smile. "Other… things?" Callum asked quietly, already dreading the answer.

If it was even possible, Aaravos' smile got more sinister. "Why, conditioning of course, Prince."

"Conditioning…?" Callum echoed, "What… kind of conditioning?"

Aaravos' smile widened. "The physical kind."

"The what?" He'd misheard him, right?

"The physical kind," Aaravos repeated, making it abundantly clear that no, Callum had _not_ misheard him. "I confess, I do not know how humans teach magic but I will teach you the way I was taught, and that begins with conditioning. Mens sana in corpore sano. A healthy mind in a healthy body." Aaravos tilted his head to the side. "I trust you are familiar with push ups, Prince?"

"... Yes?"

"Excellent. Then you may begin - I will tell you when to stop."

* * *

"Are you okay, Callum?" Ezran asked, genuine concern in his voice as he watched his brother flumph into his bed.

Callum did not respond other than raising a hand with a thumbs up.

Ezran looked down at Bait, and they shared a look of concern. "... are you _sure_? You don't look okay."

"Just… just peachy, Ez," he mumbled, half-muffled by a pillow. "Just… been doin' a lot of exercise."

"Uh huh. Maybe you shouldn't? Not if you're going to end up like that." He pottered over, peering at him with worried eyes. Callum looked… worn. His clothes were dirtied (and he was getting dirt onto his bed, which wasn't good), his hair was messed (were those twigs?) and he generally looked like he'd spent the last few hours running for his life from something. Maybe he had, but Ezran was pretty sure Callum would have mentioned it.

"No, it's… it's fine. I'll get used to it," Callum muttered, pushing himself up. His worm, 'Aaravos', followed the movement, sitting calmly on his shoulder with more intention and poise than Ezran had ever seen in a worm. Then again, Ezran had never seen any worm like Callum's (or just about any kind of worm-like bug for that matter. Did worms have legs?).

"Hi Aaravos," Ezran said in greeting, reaching out to gently stroke the worm's head.

The worm allowed the gesture of affection, although he somehow managed to make it seem dignified, drawing a small giggle from Ezran.

There was an indignant croak from his feet, and when he looked down, Bait was glowing with a mix of envy and frustration.

Ezran only rolled his eyes and reached down to pick him up. "Remember," he said in a warning tone, "No eating Aaravos. Even if you're getting jealous."

"I'm sure he's remembered his lesson," Callum responded dryly, silently wondering how in the world he'd ended up in a situation like this - watching his brother talk to a worm that may or may not be the avatar of an ancient and powerful elf, who, for all intents and purposes, was enjoying the facade way too much.

The Crown Prince just nodded seriously as Bait made a disgruntled groan, glowing an ashamed shade. The 'lesson' had been a jolt of electricity fired by Aaravos in warning, and Bait had been reluctant to go near him since.

"Here. I saved you some jelly tarts from the kitchens."

Callum accepted the offered pastries, and after a moment, broke a small section off and offered it to the worm. Did it even need to eat? Could it? He didn't really know, but keeping up the appearance of it being a pet would be useful.

The Worm clasped the offering with its little pincers and began nibbling away at it with a satisfied demeanour. Apparently, yes, it could eat.

"Thanks Ez. What did you get up to today?" Ezran began to recount his numerous adventures of the day (mostly involving the heist of yet more jelly tarts - Callum was beginning to wonder why the baker even made them if he didn't want them stolen), and he listened idly, until eventually his little brother began to tire, and Callum tucked him back into his own bed despite the screaming of his aching muscles.

"Your brother has good taste," the Worm murmured from its perch on his shoulder, still nibbling on a piece of jelly tart. "And good sense, as well. You had best get some rest, little Prince. The training only gets harder from here."

Callum grimaced. The idea of it getting even worse was… well, hardly reassuring, but he shuffled over to his own bed, Aaravos Junior sitting on his shoulder all the while. "Is all this…really… necessary?"

The Worm let out a quiet chuckle. "I said I would teach you Magic, my Prince, and this is the same method I was taught."

"But… but what does this… have to do… with Magic?" he mumbled, slipping between the sheets.

"Mens sana in corpore sano. A healthy mind in a healthy body."

Callum frowned. "A healthy mind… in a healthy body?"

The Worm nodded obligingly, crawling over to sit on the Prince's chest. "Correct. Primal Magic comes from within." It tapped a clawed little leg on his chest for emphasis. "When you have forged a connection to the Arcanum, then you will recognise it within yourself. The parts of you that are the same. Thus, Primal Magic comes from within - and from without." It made a motion with its horned head, as though drawing a circle. "It is all around us, even now, although drawing on it in any substantial way can be difficult unless there is an abundance of a source nearby. All the world emanates Primal Magic - all that was, is and ever will be has _some_ Magic. 

"The Arcanum of the Stars is drawn from the stars, and so, it is strongest when they are brightest, but even under the light of the noon day sun when they are at their weakest, the Arcanum is still present."

Callum had a feeling he should be writing this down, but his book was on the desk and his aching body seemed to ache even harder at the thought of moving. "And… exercise will help?"

The Worm nodded patiently. "It will. For now, though, it is time to sleep, Prince." It curled up on his chest, head tucked into its tail.

Was it weird to sleep with the avatar of an Ancient Elf on his chest…? He had that thought every night, and he still didn't have an answer.

* * *

"The constellations," Aaravos began quietly, "are the tapestry formed from the stars themselves. Look to the Stars, little Prince. Tell me… what do you see written there?"

Callum squinted up at the night sky, at all the glittering lights that hung on its canvas… "Uh. I don't… really see anything?" Nothing aside from a bunch of little dots of light, at least.

Aaravos let out a good natured chuckle. "Relax. There is no need to focus so hard. Do not search the stars for meaning, Prince - let them _show you_ their meaning."

He really wasn't sure how to do that, but he wasn't the century old Archmage so… He tried to relax his mind as much as he could, unfocusing his mind and just staring up at the stars. "... when will I know it's working?"

"So impatient," the Worm teased, curling up on his shoulder. "Just relax. Stop thinking, and listen."

That really wasn't helpful, but again, he wasn't the Archmage so he just grumbled a little and tried his best to follow the instructions. "... That sort of looks like a deer?" He gestured lightly with a hand at an arrangement of stars.

"Mmhmm. Tell me more."

"Uh. It's… sort of prancing? Or at least, in a prancing position. I guess." Callum squinted for a moment, before remembering Aaravos' words not moments prior and then he leaned back. When he wasn't really focusing on things, it really _was_ easier to see shapes in the stars…

"What else do you see, Prince?"

"... I think it's running. There's… a wolf behind it." He frowned. "That's… that's a bad sign, isn't it?"

"Is it?" the Worm parroted, and not for the first time Callum found himself wishing Aaravos would be just a _little_ less obtuse sometimes. "I would have you consider _why_ you feel it is a bad sign, little Prince. A wolf chasing a deer - is that not normal? Is it not in the nature of the wolf to hunt the deer?"

"I mean, it's a bad sign for the deer, isn't it?"

He got the impression the Worm was smiling at him. "So it is," it conceded, "but for the wolf, it must be a good one. But the wolf is only chasing it yet - the deer has not yet been caught. If it escapes, then I dare say it would be a good sign for the deer, but then the wolf will go hungry."

Callum was beginning to sense a lesson here. "So what, it's just… is it a good sign? A bad sign? A… an ambivalent sign?"

A pleasant little hum was the response he received. "That depends, little Prince. Are you the wolf, or the deer?"

"... I don't know," Callum admitted, looking back up at the stars. He could still see the shapes quite distinctly now, even though a handful of minutes ago he would've said he couldn't see anything distinct at all. "How do you tell? Whether you're the wolf or the deer…"

"The power of the Star Arcanum is that it is the long view, the big picture so to speak. It is the tapestry that encompasses a thousand glittering lights and weaves them into a whole." Aaravos paused for a moment, and nestled in against his neck in a manner that was… comforting, in an odd way. "This power can also be its undoing," the Worm warned quietly, "The greatest mistake a Star Mage may make is losing oneself in the tapestry - in being overwhelmed by the big picture so thoroughly, they lose sight of where they stand within it… and that they too, are a part of it. The answer to your question is perspective, little Prince. You must always have perspective, always understand it, always strive to find it. The first step, before asking whether you feel more like the wolf or the deer - the hunter or the hunted - is to ask yourself… if you feel like either of them at all."

Callum was silent for a long moment. "... So this might not mean anything at all?"

The Worm gave him a gentle but chastising nip on the neck. " _Everything_ has meaning, little Prince. It is up to you to discern what that meaning is, and what it means for you."

He made a frustrated noise. "But how will I know if I got it right? What if I make a prediction and it's wrong and it makes things worse? What if someone-what if someone gets _hurt_ because I was wrong?"

"Then you do better next time," Aaravos said simply. "The second greatest mistake a Star Mage may make is believing that they can seize control over the tapestry - we are _all_ a part of it, little Prince, and we are all weaving it with our actions. The future may be written in the stars but the stars themselves are hardly set in their ways. They move and change as _we_ move and change." The Worm shifted, curled up protectively against his skin with a comforting warmth that he wouldn't have associated with a creepy bug-thing. "We may see what the future is shaping up to be, little Prince, but it is up to us to make the future we want." 

Callum just frowned. "I thought this would be… simpler. More straightforward." He hadn't expected it to be easy, by any means, but he had thought - _hoped_ \- that it would be a case of effort and hard work. That learning magic was his path in life and if he followed it dutifully, it'd end well. He thought that Magic would be the thing that would click for him, the thing that would make sense in a way that everything other than drawing hadn't. "Will it get easier?"

The Worm let out a dry chuckle. "Do not despair, little Prince - this is only the beginning. The road ahead is long, but I have every confidence you will succeed. If I did not think you had what it took to be a mage, Callum, I would not have taken you as my apprentice."

… That was more comforting than he'd thought it would be. When he looked up at the stars again, he found the wolf and the deer alike were gone. Or maybe they had never been there to begin with? Honestly, he wasn't really sure anymore. "... What do _you_ see?"

"What do I see?" Aaravos echoed, "I see a dragon. It is small, its wings outstretched but not yet able to fly. I see elves and humans as well, and I believe they are coming for it." His voice was calm, authoritative and unhesitant, his interpretation delivered without a moment of second guessing.

But something about the words still made Callum uneasy. "What does it mean?"

The Worm shrugged as best it could. "I cannot say for certain," Aaravos admitted freely, "But I would think that if I were the dragon, I would be very careful indeed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wanted to skip straight to Callum connecting to the Arcanum, but I wanted some more build up to the pay off there. So instead, we get to see what kind of teacher Aaravos is and a vaguely ominous prediction.
> 
> Also: Sibling bonding!


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lesson on Dark Magic, a glimmer of the past - and the unraveling of the Stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey what's up youtube it's ya boy penkind here dropping the hottest new chapter-
> 
> I've been working on this for a while and by working I mean poking at it and asking my brain to give me the creative juice. Am I completely happy with this chapter? No. If I don't accept it as it is, will it languish forever and I will never get anywhere? Probably.
> 
> This chapter is full of my personal theories on the nature of Magic and Dark Magic, and also involved quite a bit of delving on my part into the timeline and trying to pin exactly what happened with Aaravos and why it might've happened.

"Oh hi Callum!" Claudia said, bright and cheery as she whirled around to greet him, "What's up, buddy?" Even in the dim light of the ritual lab, she seemed to him to be the perfect idol of beauty and grace.

Compared to her he was…

"... Callum?"

… aaaand she was right in front of his face. He let out an undignified noise and scrambled back a bit, feeling the flush burn at the skin of his face. "Claudia! I was just-I was going to-there was-" Come on, come on, remember what you were trying to ask her Callum you-"I wanted to ask about magic!" Pause. "Uh. Dark magic, specifically."

He rather resolutely ignored Aaravos' gentle snickering in his ear.

Claudia, of course, bright sun that she was, just beamed at him. "Sure! I'd love to answer any questions you have. Although I'm pretty sure the King wouldn't like it if I taught you anything…" She hummed thoughtfully, getting that wonderfully distant look she had whenever she was contemplating the mysteries of the universe (or about to say something that he'd have no hope of understanding the source of, presumably because she was contemplating the mysteries of the universe). "So! What'd you want to know?"

"Uh… how it worked?" Aaravos had already given him a rundown of the basics at his own inquiry, but he had also suggested that it would be an avenue of conversation he could explore with Claudia - and so here he was. Fumbling about.

"Oh! Well, humans are incapable of magic as you already know because we don't have a connection to the Arcanum," she began, and Callum bit his tongue at that.

He wanted to correct not because she was wrong but to impress her with his apparent intelligence and knowledge. But there was no way she'd believe him - and he had no way to prove it that didn't involve revealing who Aaravos was. And if he did that, then… well, his dad would probably be furious for starters. The rest didn't bear thinking about.

"But a lot of things have arcana within them - fauna and flora tend to have an innate connection, especially if they're from Xadia, but even simple stones can have arcane energy stored within them." She trailed her fingers over numerous jars before selecting one with a bug of some kind that seemed to glow brightly with warm energy. "Take this little guy for example!"

Callum peered into the jar at the short but fat caterpillar, and the soft, pulsing glow of its whole body.

"It's a Lunaris caterpillar - connected to the Moon Arcanum," she explained, screwing the top off, "Now, breeding these guys is a bit tricky, but quite useful as they can be used for a number of illusion spells - they work best when they're fully grown but with just this little guy…" She let it crawl up her fingers into her hands so she could show Callum more clearly… and then she crushed it in her palm.

Rather than disgust at what had to be a pretty gross feeling, Callum's only thought was to raise a protective hand towards Aaravos as though to shield him from the sight of another bug being crushed. It only earned him a few bassy chuckles.

Claudia didn't seem to notice, murmuring a chant under her breath. "Ecaf eht ekam," she breathed, and the shimmering silvery light of magic oozed out of her hand and when she opened it, there was a small replica of Callum's face formed from the glittering light.

And then it vanished a second or so later.

"Does it… does it  _ have _ to kill the uh… source?" he asked, Somehow, there was nothing left of the bug, but he still felt a touch queasy just thinking about crushing a caterpillar in his hand.

Claudia just blinked. "Weeeell, not necessarily. For bigger creatures, we usually just use a part of them, but for something small like a bug, we gotta  _ squeeze _ 'em for everything we can get." She held her fist up for emphasis, with… more enthusiasm than Callum thought was appropriate.

He still felt pretty uneasy. "But, like, can't you… draw on the magic  _ without _ hurting them?"

"Well, the magic is a part of them, Cal," she said breezily, "You can draw on it without  _ killing _ them, but it doesn't look very pleasant." Her expression turned into a small grimace. "It just kind of feels… bad, you know? Because they struggle and cry. I feel like it's much better for both of us if we just make it nice and quick."

"... Cry?" Callum echoed, sounding more than a little disturbed now. A mental image of Wormavos doing just that conjured itself in his mind's eye.

Claudia, bless her heart and soul, continued on, oblivious. "Yeah - things like plants and stuff don't, obviously, but I've seen some of the bigger rituals and they can get kind of rough. I like to stick mostly to plants and bugs for that reason, or things that have already died."

"Oh." Plants were fine. Plants didn't really feel pain, right? … right? He was never going to look at an apple the same way again. "And um, how do you actually… draw it out?"

She paused, and turned to give him an appraising look. "Weeell… I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you  _ sort of _ how it works… there's a lot of training and practice that goes into it, but once you learn to sense and feel magic, you can then pull it out of things." She wiggled her fingers as though pantomiming the process - if Callum were entirely honest, he had no idea what the motions were supposed to symbolise. "It's easier when they're dead though, because otherwise they fight back  _ buuuut _ the magic is stronger if they're alive, so it's kind of a mixed bag." She finished with a light shrug, carefree and casual.

Callum, for his part, was just nodding along and trying to mask how he felt about the description. Some part of him was… rather queasy about the general idea. The imagery, the hand gestures… it didn't seem very pleasant to  _ do _ . "So um, why is it called 'Dark' Magic?" He could probably ask Aaravos, and Aaravos would probably give him a pretty accurate answer, whether it came in a concise statement or a lengthy lecture, but it didn't hurt to ask Claudia.

"You know? I don't actually know." She tapped a finger on her chin and hummed thoughtfully, her face scrunching up in that beautiful way it did when she was particularly thoughtful. "I've never really thought about it. Maybe we should brainstorm a new name for it! We could call it… Sacrificial Magic!"

"Uh. That's… not much better."

Claudia seemed to think about it a bit longer, before just shrugging.

"Isn't it possible to be less… creepy about it?" he ventured, sounding almost hopeful. "It's pretty… well. Drawing magic out of living things…" And that talk earlier about 'crying'...

"Is it?" She didn't seem very convinced of that. "Is it really that different from like, eating meat? Lots of animals struggle before they're killed and butchered, Cal." Another shrug, light and breezy. "Same thing, except instead of dinner, it's a spell."

Before Callum could muster a response to that - he really had no idea what to say to that, other then something about the whole thing rubbed him the wrong way - the door swung open. "Claudia, dear, I need you to-" Viren cut himself off as his eyes came to rest on where Callum had currently locked up in momentary fight-or-flight. "Prince Callum," he pivoted, more than a little stiffly. "I apologise for interrupting, but I need to speak with my daughter."

"... Oh-kay." Claudia shot him an apologetic look, but Callum just nodded slowly and began to move. "Uh, I'll see you later, Claudia?"

But before he could get out, clear and free, Viren stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Prince, that… caterpillar on your shoulder…" he began slowly, a calculating look on his face that made Callum's hackles raise.

"My little bug pal?" … Why, oh why was that the first thing his mind reached for every time? Aaravos was snickering so loudly in his ear, he had no idea how Viren wasn't hearing it. A side effect of the ritual they'd performed?

"Where did you find it?" Viren continued, clearly oblivious to whatever humor Aaravos found in the situation.

Callum couldn't stop himself leaning away slightly, feeling defensive. "Oh, just… in one of the towers, near some old things." Could Viren read his mind? Probably not. Could he tell when Callum was lying? Decidedly more likely. Best solution was to tell the truth without telling the complete truth. "Why?"

"... Hm. Merely curious." And then the hand was gone, and Callum was free to scurry away, feeling Viren's gaze on his back.

It was only in the safety and (relative) privacy of the woods near the castle that Callum felt secure enough to voice his concerns to Aaravos.

"Sacrificial Magic is definitely a more apt term for the practice," Aaravos murmured softly, almost thoughtful, "but it is not as sinister as it would seem."

"Isn't it? I mean, you're like… squeezing the life out of things to fuel spells. Isn't that… evil?" He wanted a better word for it, but was there really one? There was something disturbing about the magic that he couldn't shake. Or maybe it was just the implications that, given the chance, Claudia might've squeezed it out of Wormavos.

(But the Worm wasn't  _ really _ Aaravos, was it?)

Aaravos just clicked his pincers. "Your friend likened it to butchering animals for meat - she was not wrong. It is much the same."

"But we eat the meat to survive." His rebuttal wasn't so much a 'rebuttal' as a… question in the form of a statement. The tone Aaravos was using suggested there was a lesson being taught. There was usually a lesson being taught.

"When you first asked to be taught, Prince Callum, did you not say that the only way to save the people from famine was with the heart of a titan?" The Worm snaked down his arm into his waiting hands, peering up at him with eyes like amethysts. "All things are connected, apprentice - we take and we give, and in turn we are taken from and given to. It is no more 'evil' to use the life of another to save your own then it is to eat another to feed yourself."

That… made sense, he supposed. "Then why is it called 'Dark Magic'?"

Aaravos chuckled softly for a moment. Had Callum asked a dumb question…? "Imagine, if you will, that you are a creature of magic. You are rich with the arcanum, positively bursting with it. You perform magic freely, as easy as breathing. Now someone has learned that they may perform magic using you - by squeezing it out of you in a process that is, admittedly, unpleasant."

… Yeah, that  _ really _ didn't sound anything but sinister.

It must've shown on Callum's face because Aaravos continued in his soft, dulcet tones. "It was viewed as something of a short cut. It can take years, if not decades, to cultivate a connection to an arcanum strong enough to perform magic - but within weeks, if not days, a beginner can perform any kind of magic simply through a little… sacrifice. But its true value - and threat - is its power." At this, the Worm paused, and shifted in his hands. "Consider the spell that warmed the lands of an entire kingdom - performed with the titan's heart as a catalyst and sacrifice, a single mage, if particularly skilled, could manage it, but more than likely, a small handful. Without that heart, using 'traditional' magic, it would take an entire league of Mages, all working in concert."

He chewed on that fact in silence. How many 'mages' did Katolis even have? Viren must've learned from… someone. And Claudia was learning from her father. Did Viren have any other apprentices? "You said it was… a threat?"

"Consider. When a mage casts a spell, the magic must come from somewhere. When done so traditionally, the magic comes from within - it is our own magic. What makes drawing it from others different?"

A question. He could feel the expectant gaze, patiently waiting for his answer, and Callum sat down to think about it. What made it different…? Aaravos had said there was 'power' in it. Using just the titan heart, for example, a few mages could do the work of… however many Aaravos meant by a 'league'. A lot of mages. But if magic was in all things, and it was the same magic, then drawing it from others was only different if they had  _ more _ magic to draw on?

But Claudia had used that tiny caterpillar. It probably had more 'magic' in it than Claudia did, but all she'd done with it was make that little illusion, and that had taken…

"Because we can use all of their magic," he murmured, eyes widening a little. "That's why it's a sacrifice."

The Worm bobbed its head. "Very good, little Prince. Make no mistake - it is just as possible for you or I to sacrifice ourselves in the same way, and just because it is an act of sacrifice does not mean it must be an unwilling one. There are stories of ancient heroes who, faced with great danger to their people, used their very lives to fuel the spells necessary to avert disaster."

Still, he had one question left. "But if we can draw on the magic of others and we don't have to force it, then isn't it possible to perform Dark Magic  _ without _ being all…" He wriggled his fingers as though grasping at the air. "... creepy?"

"Prince," Aaravos began in a quiet, almost patient tone, "The very act of sacrifice requires that one draws out the life energy of another - given freely or not, I think a little ceremony would help remind all participants of exactly  _ what _ they are doing."

… Yeah, okay, he could understand that actually. "Wait. If Dark Magic  _ always  _ involves drawing out life energy, then when we perform magic-"

"-we are using our life energy," Aaravos finished calmly. Okay, he was being calm about it, maybe Callum was just… misinterpreting? "The same way we use our life energy when we move, that we recover by eating and sleeping. That is why we grow tired when we use magic, little Prince, and why using too much  _ will _ harm us."

Oh. Right. "That's why I have to exercise so much, right? Mens sana corpore sano."

Somehow, the Worm gave off the impression it was smiling. "Exactly. Which brings us to the next point of order…"

Callum groaned, reaching up to palm at his face. Why did he open his mouth?

"Start running, my apprentice."

* * *

He's not entirely sure why the thought struck him when it did, in the middle of some drawing practice, but it struck him all the same. It's not as though this thought hadn't percolated within his mind several times before, he'd just never really acted on it, which in itself was something curious. Why hadn't he acted on it? He didn't know - but there was no time like the present, he supposed.

"Hey, Aaravos…" he began, charcoal 'pen' coming to a stop from where it was sketching the shape of Wormavos - Wormavos who was now swivelling around to give him a quizzical and expectant gaze. "... Why are you in a mirror?"

"I will confess, little Prince, that I expected this question to arise sometime earlier," Aaravos admitted softly, something amused in his voice. "To give you an abbreviated answer, it is because I was imprisoned." The Worm shifted a little, settling down against the desk he was resting on.

"You were imprisoned in the mirror…?" It seemed like… there were worse places to be imprisoned, really. From what Callum had seen, it looked pretty comfortable - but it must've been boring as anything being stuck there for  _ years _ .

Wormavos clicked his pincers. "To be precise, little Prince, the Mirror is not my prison but a… window, of sorts. I do not know exactly what my captors intentions were with it - they certainly saw no need to communicate with me - but perhaps they were just… making sure I stayed put." With that, the Worm shrugged - or as best a worm could shrug.

That… hm. That really just made Callum  _ more _ curious… and more worried, as it were. "You were… imprisoned? By who? And why?" Trusting Aaravos at first had been… well, a gamble, he'd admit. The whole ritual thing could've  _ easily _ ended badly but… so far, all Aaravos had done was teach him whatever he asked to be taught. He found it hard to believe that there was some sinister master plan… unless the Worm had secretly been siphoning off his life force or something?

"I was imprisoned by  _ Avizandum _ ," and there was an undeniable curl to Aaravos' voice that spoke of displeasure and wroth, "but as for  _ why _ …" The Worm went silent, pincers click-clacking. "... The most objective way I can answer that question, little Prince, is that we disagreed."

Callum tapped the charcoal against the unfinished drawing. "... And Avizanam put you in a mirror over that…?"

" _ Avizandum _ ," Aaravos corrected gently, "And the situation was… more complicated than that. The disagreement was a very large one, and was not merely between the two of us." A small sigh, and the Worm's front drooped. "In truth, it would be more accurate to say that  _ Xadia _ imprisoned me, for as powerful as the Dragon King is - or perhaps was - he alone could not defeat me."

Callum could feel his thoughts crash to a halt. The Dragon King?  _ All of Xadia?! _ "... What was the uh, disagreement…?"

"It was over magic," Aaravos said simply, "Dark Magic specifically. To give you the complete background would require many hours of lecturing, as this was something of a culmination of many centuries of history but suffice to say, the root of our… disagreement was in Dark Magic." Another pause. "Dark Magic was - is - feared in Xadia. Reviled, even. Humanity's practice of it was what led to the downfall of the Archdragon Sol Regem, and his successor exiled all of humanity from the lands."

The charcoal pen went silent as Callum leaned forward, utterly rapt and absorbed. He'd never been all that… attentive in his history lessons, but Aaravos was enchanting (and not just because his voice  _ still _ brought shivers to Callum's spine). He had been there. He had been  _ there _ when history had been made! And from the sounds of things… he might've been involved.

"For my… part in the practice and teaching of it, I too was feared and reviled." He didn't sound particularly pleased by it. "So they imprisoned me."

The silence that settled upon them afterwards did not so much as actually 'settle' as it did descend like a heavy weight, crushing the atmosphere and stifling Callum's thoughts. Honestly, he knew the answer was probably going to be heavy and the conversation awkward so it's not as though he's  _ surprised _ at the result - but knowing it was going to happen clearly didn't prepare him for how to deal with the result.

After a small, stretched out eternity of awkwardness, Callum mustered up the courage to dig the hole a little deeper. "If… what you did was so bad, why didn't they…" At this, he reached up with a hand and dragged it across his neck, tongue sticking out in a clear pantomime of death.

"I must confess, Prince, that I do not have the answer to that question," Aaravos declared softly, "Whatever their reasons, they never said."

The silence hung further, and Callum marinated in it. Star Magic was about perspective wasn't it? About looking at the big picture and understanding how it was shaped and formed by hundreds of smaller ones? Callum wasn't a magical creature, but even just witnessing Dark Magic had left him a little squicked out. Hearing about it hadn't helped.

It was easy to see why they might've been afraid of it - and of Aaravos, who seemed so knowledgeable and ancient. Some small part of him wondered if he should be afraid of Aaravos, trapped in a mirror for what must've been worthy reasons to his jailors…

But in saying that, Aaravos had never been anything but kind to Callum. He'd be an absolutely naive idiot to assume that it was impossible for Aaravos to have some kind of ulterior motive, but so far… he'd been open and forthright. Callum had been the one to reach out to him, and Aaravos had only asked that he tell him about the outside world.

Caution. He'd be… cautious, with Aaravos. Maintain perspective as best he could. With that resolution in place, he picked up the charcoal pen from where it was resting and resumed his drawing.

* * *

Things settled, more or less, into a routine from there. During the day, mostly exercise. During the night, stargazing. He'd documented the constellations he saw in his book - both the ones everyone agreed were there, and the shapes whose only evidence for existing was Callum's own testimony - and learned the stories behind them, studied astrological meanings. 

The latter of which was something Claudia was apparently quite interested in ("Did you know Elves associated certain constellations with dates, and that being born under different ones means different things?") and Aaravos had even given him a brief crash course on Elven Astrology ("I assure you, Prince, most of this is merely superstition."), but it was only on a chance encounter in the night, looking out of his bedroom window just in time to see a star brighten as it streaked across the sky before fading that he felt the meaning  _ click _ in his mind.

There was a strange…  _ tingling _ all throughout his body, almost electric but not quite. "Aaravos," he whispered, "I get it! I get it now!"

The Worm turned, pincers clicking gently in silent expectation.

Like describing colour to the blind or music to the deaf. There weren't really  _ words _ to describe it at all, but he was going to try. "It's-it's the big picture, it's everything combining together to become more than they were like-like constellations or the night sky and the galaxy and everything else, we're all…"

He'd watched the star burn and shine and fade away and if he had blinked or looked away for a moment, he would've missed the entire thing, and yet, if you asked him what had changed in the night sky now that there was one less star, he didn't have an answer, and  _ that _ was the essence of the Star Arcanum.

"... we're all little stars in the night sky and we make constellations and shapes but we're not… we're not  _ important. _ " The Arcanum was… sobering, as it settled into his mind, as the weight of it filled his soul even as it energised it, and it left him with his head hanging in his hands over his desk.

Together, everything formed the big picture. Alone, they were just… dots on a canvas. Threads in a tapestry made of countless others.

The Worm clicked it's pincers again. "Correct," it declared softly, "Congratulations, apprentice. You've grasped the Star Arcanum far faster than I expected."

The words might've brightened his day (hell, his week) but right now they were a cold comfort. Without even realising it, he'd accepted his own cosmic insignificance in the grand scale of things.

The Worm crawled up his arm, curling around his ear to whisper directly to him, and although it was a weird, creepy bug that may or may not be an uncomfortably beautiful elf with an even more uncomfortably deep voice, the weight and presence was still comforting all the same.

"Come, little Prince. Get some rest - your next lesson will begin tomorrow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rough timeline as I'm working off:
> 
> ~1200 years ago, the human city of Elarion is prospering due to the adoption of Dark Magic - but overconsumption has led to tensions with the 'magical' races. Dragon King Sol Regem's answer is to demand Ziard (who may be a leader of some sort?) to cease all Dark Magic or he will destroy Elarion. Obviously, that doesn't go well. Sol Regem is blinded.
> 
> There's a poem about Elarion, but it's not clear what time it is referencing. The 'fires of the hungry dragon' suggest it is now, when Sol Regem is rampaging, otherwise it could be earlier. What is clear is that Aaravos is referenced directly as gifting Elarion a 'spark' of 'night flame'. Given it's a poem, it may not be historically accurate (within the show's canon at least), but it definitely seems to imply Aaravos either sheltered the city OR even taught humanity Dark Magic.
> 
> ~1000 years ago, during the reign of Luna Tenebris (who presumably took over from Sol Regem based on... whatever protocols the Dragon Monarchy has? Clearly wasn't a case of being King for life, he's still around and still furious), humans and elves/dragons war, but human's lose and exiled. This is known as the Judgment of the Half Moon.
> 
> ~300 years ago, Avizandum rises to become Dragon King (no word on what happened to Luna Tenebris - is she stepping down, did she die, who knows). The Orphan Queen founds Katolis. Something known as the 'Fallen Star' occurs - I personally believe this is when Aaravos was sealed.
> 
> And then current day happened with everything that involves.
> 
> But enough talking about history! Tune in next time for Callum learning his first spells and forms, and the stirrings of the Moonshadow Elves. After all, it's was about five months since Avizandum died when they sought their revenge on Harrow and Ezran.


End file.
